Broken Links
by flyboyfan23
Summary: Sequel to Loose Ends. Sora's back once again. Having been locked away for years on Earth, she's ready for a little fun, even if John isn't. Shep Whump, with plenty of angst and hurt/comfort. Please give it a shot!
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is the sequel to my story 'Loose Ends'. I wasn't really planning on writing one but my muse wouldn't leave me alone. If you haven't read 'Loose Ends' I would suggest you do but you can give it a try anyways if you think you can keep up. **

**This is hurt/comfort and angst for all my friends on here who love to see our flyboy broken then put back together! I'm hoping to update every two days and will try really hard to not fall behind but I am still making a few changes in the last few chapters. **

**Reviews are loved! It's great to hear your feed-back both positive and negative, just remember to speak kindly :)**

**And, as always, I don't own Stargate, just saying. **

**So, here we go: **

**Broken Links**

Teyla sighed as the doors to her quarters slid closed with a hiss, muffling her son's wailing cries. She had just placed little Torren down for a much needed night's sleep, leaving the young boy in the capable hands of nurse Benson.

The Athosian winced as a particularly loud scream broke through the barrier. She felt horrible leaving the kindly nurse with such a fussy charge. The simple act of leaving her child in such a state went against all her motherly instincts but Torren was not in any true physical or emotional distress and as a mother she had no intention to coddle the child and create a spoiled youngster. No, the small boy simply did not wish to sleep, had not for the past week, refusing to rest even when his eyelids hung too heavy to remain open for short periods of time. Carson had come as a true comfort during these long nights, assuring her that this was only a phase and would pass in time.

The poor doctor had been unable to sleep recently as well, finding himself too anxious to rest. It had begun slowly, Carson fighting the call of his sheets by an hour or so each night to create more time to work on his speech. You see, a group of the 'big-wigs' were hosting a medical convention/seminar concerning emergency triage, focusing mainly on doctors stationed on remote bases. So after the exchange of multiple political favors and flat-out bribery they had landed their main speaker, one Carson Beckett, the man who laid claim to the most remote station by far. This was all against the poor Scot's will, of course, and while knowing the subject backwards and forwards Carson grew increasingly nervous each day. He was, after all, a naturally shy man.

So each night the doctor took little Torren off her hands for a few precious moments and, while Teyla didn't understand the more technical details, she would gladly look over Carson's latest additions and revisions to his speech draft.

"You ready to go?"

Teyla's thoughts were interrupted as Colonel Sheppard approached her, wincing in sympathy as he heard Torren's slowly decreasing whimpers. Her C.O and friend was dressed in what the soldiers on base called 'civies'. Faded jeans, plain maroon t-shirt, and a pair of flip-flops. She, herself was wearing clothes from earth, they had been given to her by Elizabeth when she had first started living with the expedition. The delicate blouse was loose fitting and light weight with a tasteful pattern. While Teyla found the shirt comfortable she was still adjusting to the shorts, which were made from the same material as Sheppard's. The issue was not how short they were, for they ended at an acceptable length on her legs but she found the thick fabric more constricting than her Athosian clothing. Teyla would have quickly changed back into her own wardrobe but she and John were on their way to meet a group of senators and high officials for a tour of Atlantis and a certain level of secrecy was required.

Immediately after the cities remarkable landing in San Francisco Bay, Homeland Security had enforced a long list of precautions to avoid detection from civilians. As it was, everyone who exited the city was required to wear Earth clothing as well as leave at dusk or dawn in order to remain as inconspicuous as possible. A group of people loading and unloading boats in the dead of night was unusual and afternoon hours of the bay were always busy. As it was the police were enforcing the sailing restrictions under the guise of a possible 'Drug Drop-Zone' of the local drug cartel while the Air Force had proclaimed the area a 'No Fly Zone' for 'pilot training'. The cover stories had immediately drawn the attention of a great number of conspiracy theorists. Groups would mill about on the pier searching for 'proof' but the military was not worried, knowing that their theories of aliens, mutants, and sea monsters would actually enforce the credibility of the cover-story.

The easiest things to avoid detection would have been to move the city but the incredible flight of Atlantis had drained nearly all the city's power, leaving her 'stranded' in the bay for the time-being. Due to this John and Teyla were heading to meet the group at the pier at 2200. They were not to arrive for another thirty minutes but Sheppard was compelled to 'inspect' the security for himself before they arrived.

"I am ready, John." Teyla responded, placing a hand on his forearm in order to gently guide him into a faster pace, wanting to move out of ear-shot of her child quickly for her own heart.

It only took them a few minutes to reach the East dock, holding a light-hearted conversation as the traveled the corridors.

John could barely withhold his grin as he walked onto the small fishing boat. 'Walking' may not have been the correct term as it was more closely attributed to stumbling. He had yet to recover his sea legs, Atlantis only having been on Earth for two weeks. One may have found that a bit strange, he had after all lived on a floating city for the past five years, but in truth with Atlantis' inertial dampeners one was never even aware of the rolling seas until on the many balconies. The boat was small and low-tech in order to avoid unwanted attention, it's dingy sides a once brilliant emerald green now faded and mottled with barnacles. A distinct contrast when tethered to the grand but subtle beauty of Atlantis with her impressive technology built into her elaborate architecture.

The pilot's grin grew three-fold as he heard Teyla stumble behind him as she too attempted to board the low-tech vessel, knocking things over and rocking the boat with more intensity than the surrounding waves. Everyone, including John, would have expected the Athosian to possess more grace and pose than she was currently demonstrating but sea-going vessels were not common in the Pegasus galaxy. The leisurely joy of sailing was not widely appreciated, seeing as the middle of a large body of water left you a perfect target during the sudden cullings. That being said, Teyla's lack of grace was understandable but still quite humorous.

Finding a firm footing, John turned and offered her a hand up which she accepted readily.

"Thank you, John. I have yet to grow used to this." She said as he steadied her until she was safely in her seat.

"It takes a while." Sheppard replied, grinning as he fell into his own bench. The two marines stationed on the small fishing boat wore 'civies' as well, and with their unshakable sea-legs guided the boat away from the city and through it's cloak, leaving them open to public view.

The pier appeared deserted as the small vessel approached, which did not please the Colonel. He had arranged for a small team of soldiers, dressed in casual wear, were to be 'meandering' the area while the local police took their usual fifteen minute routes to keep up appearances, though as it was none of them were visible.

Killing the motor, John, Teyla and one of the marines stepped from the boat peering about them in search of their undercover colleagues.

"Colonel Sheppard."

A familiar voice cut through the night air, drawing their attention towards the main streets leading to the docks. Daniel Jackson appeared through the shadows, his glasses glinting as the caught the dim light of the pier.

"Doctor Jackson." Teyla was the first to speak, a smile on her lips. She and the archeologist had become friends during his many trips to and from Atlantis. Though he was quite busy pouring through the endless personal diaries of the long-gone ancients in the city database, Daniel had spend much of his down time speaking with Teyla. The Athosian was more than willing to feed the man's genuine interest in her people and culture, and was curious about his own childhood back on earth.

"Hey, Teyla. Mind if I catch a ride back with you?" Jackson asked, knowing he already had a seat.

John shrugged. "I'm sure one of the senators wouldn't mind a swim."

Of course, if the Colonel could have had his way, all the senators would be swimming. This being the second tour, the officials had already irritated John on the first trip, having made snide remarks about the city and the efficiency of the staff.

"Great." Daniel replied, enjoying the mental image of the dripping wet suit hanging wrinkled as an un-named senator clamored onto Atlantis' pier.

Both Teyla and Jackson fell into quiet conversation, but instead of joining in, John found himself peering through the dark mist of the docks. A dense fog hung in the air like a thick blanket, clinging to everything in a foreboding manner.

While the unease Sheppard had felt when they had first arrived had diminished it was still present, clenching his gut in an unrelenting grasp. Quietly, he directed the two marines to check the surrounding area and locate his missing squad. Sure, they were meant to be undercover and avoid detection but perhaps they were a little too good at their jobs.

Only a few random people milled about on the docks, mostly loitering around or tossing stones in the pitch black waves. The Colonel had quickly scanned the pier when they had first arrived, dismissing the wanders. None of them having the air of a soldier.

A young man, standing only a short distance away however, caught John's attention. He was on the heavier side with his gut hanging over his belt. A thick mop of dark hair covered his head but in the fading light Sheppard could not be sure of the color. While his physical appearance was not remarkable it was his posture that drew John's gaze. The man was hunched over the railing and appeared to be intently studying the churning water but John, with his keen eyesight, watched as the man glanced their way every few seconds. Fingers twisted nervously in front of him, breaking apart occasionally to touch his jacket pocket.

"John?" Teyla said softly, noticing the crease that appeared along Sheppard's forehead whenever he was worried or confused. His stance had instantly changed, his muscle tensing and hand hovering over his concealed pistol. She had regretfully left her own weapons on Atlantis, having been assured that everything was well handled. Sheppard himself had left his own gun behind for their previous visits outside the city but today, in the short moment just before he had left his room to meet Teyla he had had an unexplainable urge to bring his pistol.

He had learned to listen to such feelings rather quickly in the Air Force, for those snap decisions had saved his life too many times to count. The unconscious compulsion to dodge to the right instead of the left, to duck at just the right instant.

"I'm not sure, something's not right." John replied, as both Daniel and Teyla tensed, preparing for anything that may come their way. Reaching for his radio, the Colonel attempted to contact his undercover unit.

"Unit One, come in please."

He was answered with silence, only the hiss and crackle of static breaking through.

"Unit One, report. Johnson, Wayne." John called for the marines he had sent out in search earlier.

The silence was nearly deafening, broken only by the occasional cry of a gull.

Glancing around her, Teyla slowly and carefully inched towards a stack of wooden crates behind her. She was about to pick up the small, discarded metal pipe which had caught her eye when she noticed the slight shift of a body hidden behind the pile. Teyla backpedaled quickly, but was not fast enough for she quickly found her wrist encircled in a strong grip.

While her attacker had decent strength, the man, for she knew it was a man having seen the thick hair covering the hand and wrist, was not expecting a woman with her level of skill for she almost instantly broke his grip. Unfortunately, the man was a quick thinker and while she escaped his grasp, he slipped his other arm around her neck. She once again could have easily removed the hold but the cold metal of the barrel of a gun, pressed into the small of her back, stilled her.

All this only took moments, and in these few moments John had his pistol drawn, pointed unwavering at the man.

He was thin, tall, and wiry, with no muscle to speak of. His hair was wispy, not from age for the man was only in his thirty's but from early on-set balding. His facial expression showed little concern toward the weapon pointed in his direction, but if one had looked close enough in the fading light he would have caught a glimmer of uncertainty though it was well masked.

"Let her go." Was all John managed to say before the familiar cock of a gun sounded behind him.

"Put your gun down, slowly." The man who held Teyla ordered, his voice rumbling with a deep base tone.

Mentally kicking himself, John lowered the pistol and knelt to place it on the ground. He had forgotten about the man at the railing, his attention drawn to Teyla during the struggle. Glancing over his shoulder, John first saw the trembling barrel of the gun held by the expected man before noticing a new addition to the group. This man was average looking. Brown hair, brown eyes. Thick framed glasses sat on a nose that appeared to have been broken on multiple occasions.

The original man holding the gun was shaking, and a nervous sweat glistened across his brow. He held his gun loosely with unskilled fingers, leaving it easy to disarm him but John would not have done so even if Teyla were not in such a position. Sheppard had seen first hand that an untrained and flighty opponent is just as, if not more, dangerous than a well-trained professional and were always more unpredictable.

"On you knees. Now!" The tall man demanded, watching as both John and Daniel sunk down, hands held in placating gestures.

"Alright, alright." John mumbled. "Don't have a cow."

Shaking hands secured both Daniel's and John's arms behind their backs. Almost the instant they were submitted to the harsh bondage, cloth gags were forced between their lips and dirty, burlap bags were pushed over their heads.. Teyla herself received the same treatment from her position in front of them.

"An interesting statement, John." A female voice said, the echo of the surrounding alleyway from where it originated distorting it until it was unrecognizable. While the trio could not see anything but the dull brown of the potato sacks, a tall red-headed woman confidently strode from the shadows. Her hair was of medium length with a gentle, with an unhealthy curl, hanging ragged just over her shoulders. Red lips were spread in a cheshire like smile revealing her white teeth.

...

O'Neill groaned as they finally turned down the water-front street. The tour had been delayed by what Jack could only be an illegally long train.

It was no secret that the Colonel did not do well with senators so he made no attempt to hide his sigh of relief as the docks finally came into view. The trip had been a thing straight out of Jack's nightmares, the senator's whining about everything. The car was too hot, the car was too cold. O'Neill would have rather taken a group of thirty toddlers to the zoo than deal with the spoiled officials again. Now, more than ever, did he want to disappear in the maze of corridors and passageways that encompassed Atlantis.

Cautiously, Jack slowed the black SUV down to a crawl before pulling to a stop.

"Finally." One of the senators grumbled, reaching for the door handle.

"Stop." O'Neill ordered at the same moment he clicked the locks on. "You will stay here while I check the perimeter. You will only exit the vehicle when I give the all clear and you will stay quiet and only speak when I require it." He stated in a low growl, having reached his limit with the smart comments.

Each senator glared as he finished his list of 'rules' but otherwise were compliant.

Unlocking only his own door, Jack stepped from the van with pistol in hand. Reaching up to his ear piece he tapped the device on. "Colonel Sheppard, come in please."

Silence.

"Colonel Sheppard." He repeated, gripping his weapon a little tighter. Uneasiness settled low in his gut as he peered into the darkness. The docks were more deserted than usual, the stillness only broken by the occasional alley cat. Puddles covered the pavement making glistening patches of silver in the moonlight.

"Hello? Anyone out there?" Jack called out, his voice a harsh whisper. The glint of metal drew the General's attention. A small, knife stood upright in the dirt beside a large pile of boxes, having obviously been placed in such a position. Taking one final look around him and with his ears open, ready to react at the slightest noise the General knelt to pick up the discarded weapon, examining it closely. It was an efficient-looking dagger with a wicked curve along the blade. The handle was skillfully constructed hard-wood with no design but along the top, near the blade crude symbols were carved. The unknown language was intriguing, for sure, but it was the dry, now brown blood along the blade that had Jack concerned. He had a sickening feeling he would find it's DNA analysis compelling to say the least.

Consciously holding the knife by the very edge of it's handle, Jack slowly made his way back to the van. Throughout his investigation, he had been able to hear the constant chatter from the senators but now they had fallen silent, watching him intently through the tinted windows. Perhaps they weren't as completely unaware and dense as Jack had thought.

Only a short way from the vehicle, O'Neill activated his comm link. "Unit One." He spoke quietly over the speaker, calling to Atlantis. They had chosen to use a such a generic term even on secure channels as a further security measure, hoping that if they were to be over-heard it would be assumed he was only communicating with a boat patrol instead of the hidden city.

"Unit One here." The familiar voice of Chuck cut through the static, making the General wonder if he ever went off duty.

"This is O'Neill. We may have a problem." He simply stated, slipping back into the drivers seat, intent on getting the politicians back to a secure area before continuing any further.

**Alright, what do you guys think? Everyone got themselves into a bit of a bind already. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Next chapter! I had planned on getting this up this morning but I've been a little distracted getting together some of my pieces for an upcoming art show so it had to wait until now. Hope you all liked the first chapter and are willing to hang on for more. :) This chapter is a little shorter but to make up for it, I plan on posting the next one sometimes tomorrow (in which the whump first starts). **

**Until then, enjoy!**

Teyla grimaced as she tugged at her bonds, her wrists stinging with the movement but the zip-ties refused to loosen. She could feel Doctor Jackson moving beside her, attempting to escape his own bondage. Having been gagged before the cloth sac had been forced over her head she was unable to speak to either of her colleagues. She knew John and Daniel had received the same treatment, having seen the gags put in place before her sight was encompassed by the rough burlap of the potato sack.

The van gave a jolt as it rolled over a pot-hole, sending them sliding around in the compartment. Sheppard had been discarded on her other side but he had yet to so much as shift positions, which worried her. The harsh strike the Colonel had taken to his head must have been pretty hard for him to still be unresponsive but she had only the sound of impact to judge from. There was no doubt in Teyla's mind who had delivered such a blow.

A cold fist clenched around her heart, attempting to stop it from beating. Fear had instantly begun churning in her stomach when she had heard Sora's voice. Her thoughts had instantly returned to the last time one of their own was held by the mad woman. John had barely made it out alive and it had taken him a very long time to recover after-wards. The swelling in his spine alone had almost crippled him.

Hours passed by with the three of them crowded into the back of the van, laying side by side in silence with only the rumble of the engine below them or the occasional chatter of their captors. Daniel had given up attempting to escape his bonds and could tell Teyla had as well from her lack of struggling. She was a strong woman. Slow to anger and very wise for her age. Jackson also knew better than to cross her in a fight, having seen her sparring with Ronon and John a time or two but he could now sense how frightened and upset she was. He could feel the small tremors that ran through her body where their arms met. Forget being kidnapped, thrown into a stuffy van and blindfolded, this was a part of his career after all. No, that fact that this noble and brave warrior was shaken by their captor's voice had Daniel deeply concerned. With his limited mobility, Jackson pressed a little closer to the Athosian, attempting to impart some small comfort, feeling the need to do something. Finding her fingers, Daniel carefully intertwined her's with his own despite the zip-ties.

...

Daniel and Teyla remained that way throughout their unplanned road-trip, and despite both Teyla's and Daniel's valiant attempt to remain away the hum of the engine soon lulled the two asleep. Unknown to either of them, John had roused briefly, returning to consciousness but quickly falling back into darkness but it was the slam of the car doors, sending vibrations through the van and startling all three of them, that roused John from his unhealthy daze.

A harsh heat had instantly assaulted them as the door had slid open, but even with the bag covering Daniel's head, there did not seem to be any humidity in the air. He could not tell if it was the bag or the air around him but the distinct smell of earth lingered in his nose. Not the smell of flowers or other plant life but the raw smell of dirt. It was a smell, as an archeologist, he was very familiar with and despite his situation, memories of his college expeditions returned to him. Long days digging in your typical dig sites, sleeping in tents and attempting to cook over an open fire. They were fond memories of a care-free time, where he dug where he was told, keeping his nose clean while his hands got dirty. Of course, he would never trade his job at Stargate Command but there were moments, like this one, that he had to long for the days of ridicule he had received for his theories of aliens and pyramids.

Rough hands broke him from his thoughts as they pulled him to his feet before dragging him forward.

Unable to see where he was going, Daniel's foot caught some loose dirt causing him to stumble but as he expected the men that flanked him on each side did not halt or even slow down, dragging the doctor with them. The creak of a door and the slight brush of the door frame against his shoulder were small clues compared to the sudden rush of cool air that momentarily shocked his skin, informing him that he was now inside a building of some kind. He was quickly ushered inside, led through multiple hallways before stopping short. The rattle of keys reached Jackson's ears as well as another door swinging open before a harsh hand was pressed against his shoulder, forcing him forward. He only stumbled a few steps before he met the opposite wall, greeting it with his reluctant face.

Daniel winced when the door slammed shut with a great force followed by the ominous clatter of the locks.

Cautiously, the doctor slowly began to explore his prison, tentatively inching forward and using his feet to feel in front of him. The entire compartment was only a few feet wide, perfectly square and completely empty. A closet, Daniel decided. A thin streak of light filtered underneath the door but he was unable to see it through the bag, leaving him to stumble around in an attempt to locate the doorknob while his hands were still secured behind his back. His heart was pounding a bit too fast for his liking. Few people knew but Daniel was claustrophobic. His fear of small places was not all encompassing. It did not leave him curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth, but it was enough to leave him nervous especially if left alone. With a friend nearby, Daniel had someone to focus on and ground himself with.

It was a strange condition for an archeologist whose profession often required him to crawl through narrow tunnels or exploring dark caves. Of course Dr. Lam, and his team were the only people to know about his claustrophobia and would often distract him if they were ever put in such a situation.

For a brief moment, Daniel considered attempting to break the door down or making enough noise to be let out, but he knew that was fear talking for either option would only leave him bruised and on his captors bad side, having seen the results nearly every time Jack had been imprisoned. In his current employment he found himself in these predicaments often and Daniel felt he handled them a bit better than O'Neill or even Mitchell. He, after all, knew when to close his mouth while both his former team leader and current one had had their mouths duct-taped shut on more than one occasion.

With a sigh, he sank to the floor in what he hoped to be the corner furthest from the door. Settling into the most comfortable position he could find and committing himself to a long wait.

...

"General O'Neill, what has transpired?" Woosley asked as soon as Jack's boots hit the dock, the ink black waters lapping calmly at it's edge, unaffected by the growing worry among the city's occupants.

"Dunno, for sure there, Woosley." Jack replied, almost nonchalantly, having learned how to keep his cool in the most dire times. So, while the man was indeed concerned, they had yet to even begin their investigation and had no reason to panic as of yet. "Got to the boat and everyone was gone-"

"The senators?" Richard interrupted him, motioning with his hand for the General to follow him into the city while they talked.

"Safe. Took 'em to the strong house the minute things got strange. Found the sercurity teams tucked away in an empty warehouse. None of them saw anything. They were knocked out cold from behind."

Woosley nodded, walking a bit quicker as he slipped into his office. Jack slowly sauntered in behind him, before sinking down into a chair. "And only Colonel Sheppard and Teyla are missing?"

"Ah, no. Jackson had planned on hopping the boat tonight too. To do some research on something-or-other." O'Neill mumbled. "I've called him a couple times now but he hasn't answered. I was hoping to use your geeks to search for his transmitter, see where he is."

"There'll be no need for that, I'm afraid." A woman's voice responded as Jennifer Keller appeared in the office doorway. "Daniel Jackson's blood was found on the knife as well as Colonel Sheppard's and Teyla's. The investigation squad just set word that three crushed transmitters were recovered."

"So, Dr, Jackson was indeed with them." Richard stated out loud as he mulled over the facts. The crushed devices came as a good sign, hinting that whoever had taken them did not wish them found but also meant they were most likely still alive. There was, after all, no reason to hide a body. "The knife, Does it hold any clue to the identity of their attacker?"

"Rodney's looking at it now." Jennifer replied, shifting from foot to foot, unsure if she was allowed to leave, for she had nothing else to say at the moment.

"Thank you, Dr. Keller. Please get some rest. Someone will inform you if more samples requiring your expertise are acquired."

"Good night." She said softly, stifling a small yawn, before timidly smiling at the two men and turning to leave. Jack took a moment to glance at the clock mounted to the wall above the desk. Two AM. While not terribly late, or early depending on how you looked at it, O'Neill knew that the long night had only just begun.

Both men sat in relative silence for near an hour. Each talking in quiet tones as they fielded countless phone calls from pointlessly enraged politicians to actual important calls about their missing people. It was only around Three twenty when Rodney burst into the office, either not bothering to knock or simply forgetting to, for both were a possibility.

"We've got a problem." He announced earnestly.

"Were you able to lift any fingerprints from the blade, Dr. McKay?" Richard asked in a level tone, calmly gazing towards the doctor. The politician had a hidden love of procedural cop shows, having grown up dreaming of becoming a member of the police or a detective. His career choice in the end had not offered any of that excitement but during his years in Washington he had found guilty pleasure watching each and every of the seemingly hundreds of detective/cop shows that TV had to offer, excluding, of course that random show about the 'fake-physic detective'. He found that show far to unstructured and stress-inducing. Richard, after all, was a man who liked order and rules. Which was why he first asked about the fingerprints.

"Well, ah, no. They were all too smudged but-" McKay stumbled, not used to being interrupted during one of his rants unless it was by John or Ronon.

"And, were there any traces of hair or broken fingernails found at the scene?" Woosley pushed.

"Yeah, but, those aren't important." Rodney mumbled, his face turning a bright red as he was cut off once again.

"I must disagree, doctor. Those could point to the ID of our suspect."

"BUT I KNOW WHO IT IS!" Rodney snapped, his voice raising an octave as he demanded the room's attention. He took a small breath before continuing with Woosley's eyes staring unblinkingly at him while Jack sat, smirking from his chair.

"It's Sora. The knife belonged to Sora. Well, it was her father's actually but that's not really important either. The knife was sent to the mental complex with her, to be put with the rest of her personal belongings." McKay said, speaking at the normal 'McKayish' speed, which was quite fast when compared to typical human speech. "Sora has them, I'm sure of it."

**Please review! It just makes me feel great knowing that people are out there actually reading it. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, here's the next chapter. I won't be updating for another two days after this one so I hope this can last you a little while. :)**

"Are you sure it is her knife?" Mr. Woolsey asked, leaning forward in his chair, folding his hands across the desk. While he had never actually met the Genii woman, Richard had, of course, read the multiple reports and case studies about her. The alien was obsessive and revenge driven, unafraid to spill a being's blood. She had undergone physiological treatment when imprisoned on Earth and the most recent reports had been positive, claiming that she had become docile and regretful to an extent. It had been suggested that she be moved to a new ward in the facility to allow for further progressive treatment, but, if McKay's conclusion proved true, than the move seemed to have been premature. "Is there any chance that you are mistaken? This knife does not appear all that unique. Surely, there are many similar to it." Richard continued, holding up a recent photograph of the weapon, taken for evidence.

"No, this is Sora's. Her father's name is etched into the blade. See." Rodney huffed, pointing to the foreign markings that were visible in the silver metal. "It's Genii."

"Alright. So it's this Sora chick. What do we know about her?" Jack asked.

"We know that she's evil, that's what we know." McKay said, a little sharply. "She should be locked up somewhere and never let out, but apparently that's too hard to do."

While Rodney said this, Mr. Woolsey had picked up his comm link to speak to the control room. "Chet, will you contact the Ward, see if the prisoner Sora is still secure?"

"We need to find her now. There's no telling what she's going to do to Sheppard and Teyla. Sheppard barely survived the last time." Richard tuned in the very end of the scientist's rant and while he, himself, was also deeply concerned for his missing people, he had to keep a straight head.

"Dr. McKay. Is there anything else you might discover from the weapon? Anything that might aid in the search?"

"I doubt it, but I'll keep looking." Rodney snorted.

"Please do." The politician replied as the scientist left the office once more before turning with a small, amused smile on his lips. "I am surprised by your refrain, Colonel O'Neill. I had it in mind that you did not have much patience with scientists."

Jack, who had sat quietly in his seat throughout the encounter simply shrugged. "After years of working with Daniel, I've learned to tune them out." He replied, his forehead creasing as he mentioned his missing friend. Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the cell phone in his hand, waiting for it to ring with the promise of news. He had made all the calls he could make and was now left to wait until something came up.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. He had said it for years, but he really was getting too old for this.

...

While Jackson had been pulled in one direction, Teyla and Sheppard were pulled in another. Both stumbled to get their footing but John found it nearly impossible to pull his feet underneath him, the world seemed to waver around him even with the blindfold. He had hoped the pistol to his head was simply a mild concussion but with each new symptom Sheppard knew it had to be more serious than that. He had felt the slow, warm seeping of blood against his temple but it had stopped fairly quickly, the burlap covering the wound and acting almost as a band-aid.

Forced to a sudden stop, Teyla had to slam her eyes shut against the bright sun as the bag was pulled from her head. She was left alone until her eyes adjusted to reveal a ragged looking Sora before her, separated by a tall fence and with a silver knife pressed tightly against John's neck, who's own sack had been removed as well.

The heavy set man stood behind her, the burlap sack hanging loosely from his fingers.

"Allow him to remove your bonds." Sora ordered, not bothering to elaborate on the consequences that would happen of she did not. Nodding, Teyla sunk to her knees to further convey her obedience. Sheppard watched as the Athosian's hands were released and she removed her own gag, but still she wisely remained silent. Sora's minion returned to her side and together they forced the Colonel to his knees, securing him to the fence with his back towards Teyla.

"I'll be back in a short while." The former Genii stated with little emotion in her voice before turning and disappearing into the moderate-sized home that stood nearby. The stucco on the four walls was peeling, crumbling away in the elements. It was what one would think of if you were to picture a desert ranch that fallen into disrepair. Teyla could only guess that Daniel Jackson would be located within the building, the doctor having disappeared before her blindfold had been removed.

It was then that Teyla and John took note of their surroundings. Bleak, dry desert stretched for miles in all directions, their view broken only by the pale purple shadow of mountains in the far distance. If John were to venture a guess he would assume they were now in Arizona or Texas but there was no real way to know. A large rock formation stood about ten to fifteen feet away, standing upright in the otherwise empty vastness offering shelter to the multitude of desert animals that were sure to appear at dusk. The sun beat down mercilessly on everything, and both of the expedition members were already sweating under it's assault.

The Athosian also took note of her prison. Metal, woven together in such a manner as Teyla had never seen before on other planets stood above her a decent seven feet into the air. She had heard Sheppard refer to it as 'chain-link'. The fence was placed close to the stucco style building, leaving a small portion of the yard within shadow for the time being. The gate was strong and locked with a large padlock. While the barrier would have easily been climbed, it did not simply stop at this height but formed a corner, continuing on to form a ceiling, effectively closing her in without offering any protective from the elements. Having dismissed this as a possible escape route, she quickly set to pulling up the far edge of the fence to dig underneath the metal but the wire was buried into the hot desert ground which, while cracked due to it's lack of moisture, was too hard-packed for her to dig even a small way down. Sighing, she walked over to Sheppard. His arms were pulled out from his body and harshly zip-tied to the wire but the gag was still in place, so Teyla, with lithe fingers, began to manipulate the cloth behind his head.

"Please, remain still, Colonel Sheppard. I'll try and remove the gag."

She received a soft grunt in reply followed by another slightly louder hiss as the knot caught some of his dark hair. Cracking his jaw once the cloth was removed, John glanced behind his shoulder to look at her. "Thanks."

An inch long laceration ran along his temple, still oozing a small amount of blood. The drying blood did very little to hide the deepening bruising that was spreading wide enough to reach the corner of his eye. His forearm was also cut, matching the identical incision on her and Daniel's arm as well where their transmitters had once been.

"Did you find a way out?" He asked, having heard her moving about the cage.

"No, the fence is well constructed, unlike the building." Teyla replied, looking towards the dilapidated house.

"Not exactly a scene from 'Homes and Gardens', is it?" John mumbled, looking over his shoulder to view the subject of their discussion. "Any idea what happened to Daniel? Was he in the van with us?"

Teyla sighed, reaching up to try and tug at the pilot's bonds which did not shift in the slightest. If she could only get him loose, he could find Jackson as well as something to break the lock on the gate.

"He was with us until we arrived here then I heard him dragged away in the opposite direction. I would assume he is now in the building."

...

Hours past before Sora made a reappearance which John found strange but not entirely unexpected. Longs waits were often used to throw suspects or in his case prisoners of their guard. What was unexpected was the staggering walk that was Sora's gate as she exited the building. The proud and graceful Genii was now uncoordinated and while she had not exactly been ready for a photo shoot she appeared even more disheveled than before.

A bottle of jack was clutched in her fist, swinging back and forth in a very exaggerated arch.

Cold fear flooded Teyla as she watched her approach and while it was also an emotion that John shared as well, the pilot felt a miniscule bit of relief as well. His last encounter with the red-headed fury had been cold and calculated, each step thought out even when Sora had seemed to lose her temper. Each blow planned to ensure the maximum amount of pain without inducing much physical damage but with the woman drunk and bent on revenge meant that the hits would be more random. Plus, John could always hope she would pass out before he was too roughed up.

"Coln'l John She'pa'd."

Her speak was slurred, her words running together in her alcohol induced state. Sora stopped in front of Sheppard, her right foot inching out to gently nudge the pilot's flip-flopped foot. In truth, John was shocked that the flimsy shoes had remained on throughout their ordeal, but they had, Teyla's included.

"It's Lieutenant Colonel, actually." The pilot mumbled, squinting up at his captor that was merely a silhouette in the desert sky above him.

The thick, hiking boot that came flying his way caught Sheppard off guard, digging deep into his gut too quickly for him to pull his knees up in time to block the blow. Once the foot was retracted, John shifted his legs up, covering his stomach and panting to catch his breath. A small hand rest on his shoulder as the harsh pain receded, Teyla silently crouching behind him and offering him strength and courage.

While her action was meant to bring comfort, her gentle touch sent waves of guilt through John.

He knew the Athosian had been hoping to speak to the senators about returning to Pegasus. If they were to reinstate the Daedalus' trips between the two galaxies, Teyla could still visit her people on New Athos. She still cared deeply for her tribe and feared the ever-looming threat of the wraith would soon destroy them. She felt a deep need to protect her people, a compulsion that John understood and shared. As a leader and a warrior, Teyla had chosen to join the expedition because it offered her a hope of destroying the wraith and freeing her planet and many others from the monsters.

It was unlikely that any of the politicians would grant her request for the cost alone was astronomical, but if one were not to consider money the officials, not having the hearts of adventurers and pioneers would quickly point out that Earth no longer had any of their own citizens out there. Why would they wish to risk sending the Daedalus back into the unknown dangers of space. John had hoped that the scientists would have been eager to return but the treasure trove of information and technology within as well as the actual city itself meant that the geeks and brainiacs did not see any benefit it bothering with the hassle of such an endeavor, risking their lives on mystery planets instead of sitting in a cozy lab with a cup-of-joe in their hand.

But now she was here, in a situation that they had found themselves in much too often, instead of speaking to the senators and John could not help but list the what-ifs. IF he had just went by himself instead of being selfish, asking Teyla to share in his misery when he knew she would not refuse. She had been planning on speaking to the senators after the tour, hoping that the awe and excitement might sway their decision but he had asked her to do otherwise. IF he had noticed the random 'geek-squad' a few minutes before. Seriously, you didn't often notice gamers or, in this case, conspiracy theorists out of their darkened rooms and in the fresh air. IF he had told the marines to turn back when the docks had appeared a little too empty. He was trained to notice danger after all and was well-tuned to his gut feelings but he had ignored the signs. Growing lax, taking comfort in the fact that he was on Earth and things would be under control. The thought, of course, that Sora would have escaped never crossed his mind and for good reason. The insane Genii was supposed to be locked up in the darkest deepest cell the SGC had available. After the 'encounter' John had had with Sora the last time, Elizabeth had arranged for her to be shipped to Earth and imprisoned, for while Atlantis had high-tech, very impressive cells, the city seemed prone to scientific and computer mishaps that did not guarantee fool-proof security. Each glitch was not Atlantis' fault but it was the bumbling of a large number of scientists and untrained personal for, while the expeditions knowledge had grown greatly since they had first laid claim, they still had much to learn of the hundreds of programs and lay-outs of each system. The mystery of Sora's escape had Sheppard curious, and understandably so but John didn't expect to actually find out. He figured he could always ask though.

John's mulling was interrupted when Sora, standing over him with a piercing glare, spoke with a seriously slurred voice. She reeked of alcohol and John was able to read the Tequila bottle as it was held loosely in her hand.

"Youu, you ruin'd my l'fe."

She sunk to the ground, landing quickly on John's once again out-stretched legs before he could move them. She was light, much lighter than she had been during their last encounter.

"K-killed th'm." Sora said, hiccuping as she finished. "Woke -wra'th. De'troyed liv-. Stol-fr'm us."

Deep burning anger flamed in her eyes as she stared into John's own hazel eyes.

"Wish you would die!" She screamed, this sentence coming out loud and clear. Sora raised the large bottle about her head but John had no time to react, no chance to throw her off balance and off his knees before it came crashing down on his head. The glass shattered, flying in all directions. Shards fell, cutting Teyla and Sora, but most of the damage was done to John. Cuts covered his face, red, seeping lines across his temple, forehead, and cheek. As the impact broke the glass, the Tequila was no longer contained, soaking Sheppard's clothing and hair while burning the lacerations. It was a burning he could not feel, however, for he had been rendered unconscious by the blow for it had caught him in the center of his temple.

"John?" Teyla asked, reaching her fingers through the touch his shoulder.

Sora's anger did not seem to have been sated by the single act of violence for she began to pound her fists into every inch of John's chest, abdomen and face, ignoring Teyla's attempts to stop her. Her fury grew with each blow when her prisoner did not react, the need for revenge refusing to be stifled.

Exhaustion itself was the only reason Sora's hate-filled attack eventually ceased, leaving her panting, sitting on the unconscious man's knees as she stared into his blooded face, willing him to awaken so she could see the pain she felt within herself in his own expression.

A small shudder ran through the Genii as the alcohol continued to take hold and tears began to well in her eyes, trailing softly down her dirt smudged cheeks.

"Sora, please. Let us help you." Teyla spoke in a gentle voice. "We can help you."

"I've seen you hospitality." Sora growled under her breath, snarling at the hand which Teyla had reached between the links towards her.

"You were a prisoner. How we're we to trust you after what you did to John?"

"Exactly!" The red head screeched, slapping Teyla palm. While the alcohol was making her irrational in most ways she was not incapable of following the conversation.

"And now, I'm going to be executed so I may as well take both of you with me!" Sora screamed, expecting, and if she was honest with herself, planning on being caught. For, in truth, she wanted to be captured once again. She hadn't been truly attempting to escape originally either. The daring plan had only been a failed suicide attempt. A Genii warrior could never take their own life. It was considered the highest cowardly act a soldier could make. They were to face what came at any cost but Sora had wished to die since her capture, to join her lost loved ones and no longer worry about anything.

The escape had been a last ditch opportunity, having been unsuccessful in angering the guards to the point of violence, but when she was all the sudden free she was left with a choice: run headlong into her pursuers or seek out John Sheppard and Teyla Emmagan in hopes of killing them both before dying herself. For Sora, the choice had been clear.

Sniffing back the tears, Sora rose and without looking at either of her prisoners, walked back in the building, leaving Teyla to rouse the beaten pilot.

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! Sorry it took me a little longer than I had planned to update, but the internet was acting funny but it's all better! **

**Anyways, enjoy this next chapter. Some good whump ahead. **

Daniel shifted in the dark, attempting to return the feeling to his butt. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting in the small space but he had run out of things to distract himself with. The doctor had recited the alphabet of every language he knew, softly hummed each song, making up his own words when he forgot the lyrics, before playing and replaying his favorite movie "Indiana Jones" (the original one, he would not accept Shia Lebouf as Indy's son) scene by scene in his head. That had wasted a few hours. He had expected his captors, whoever they were, to have made an appearance by now. The extended wait had Daniel's mind wandering, his discomfort slowly growing into the irrational fear. Noises started to echo from unseen places and while he was still blindfolded by the burlap sac, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he could not shake the feeling he was being watched. His paranoia increased, his breaths coming in pants. Jackson jumped as cold, clammy fingers seemed to trail along his shoulder, gently stroking him.

"No-" Daniel whimpered through the gag, instantly knowing who the touch belonged to. Soft touches roaming his shoulders and back, remnants of a time far gone.

The sudden clank of the lock and the creak of the door seemed to scream through the silence, but it was a sound Jackson welcomed. While the archeologist would usually have chosen the known threat over the unknown, in this case, he would have run straight into the Ori's not-so-welcoming arms to escape the small closet.

Struggling to his feet, Daniel nearly pushed his way through the door as it opened, brushing past the man on the other side. Desperately, pulling the seemingly fresher air into his lungs, he froze when he felt hands removing the burlap sac and gag but his hands remained tied. Blinking in the sudden light, once Daniel was able to see once again he came face to face with a 'Wormhole X-Treme' poster of Dr. Levant, the archeologist based off of him in the show. The expression on the man's face was clearly meant to be pensive and brooding but it came across as more like constipation. A smirk broke through Daniel's lips as he read the small note beside the autograph. It read: _To a fellow explorer and adventurer._ Forcing away the shock, Daniel took a few moments to look around him. A small, unmade bed sat in one corner and a simple desk sat next to that. Papers were scattered everywhere. There were no empty spaces across the desk and large stacks also sat along the floor. Replicas of a menagerie of science fiction collectables sat along long shelves, everything from Star Trek action figures to signed Doctor Who Tardis statues. Charts and photographs were pinned along the wall, while empty Mountain Dew cans dotted the room. The whole room reminded him of a slightly depressing version of a child's search and find puzzle. Taking in a closer look at his surroundings, Jackson sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the subjects of the multitude of pictures.

His team. Mitchell, Carter, O'Neill, Teal'c, and even a photo of himself and Vala at dinner. Each picture was outside of Cheyenne Mountain, out in the 'real world'. Dressed in civies and living apparently normal lives. Turning, Daniel recognized his captor as one of the men on the pier, who had first jumped Teyla. Thinning hair and skinny build, the man wasn't very impressive. He stood just outside of the closet, the door still open like a large gaping mouth threatening to swallow the archeologist whole. Jackson swore he could see something moving within the dark shadows but pushing down his fear, he nonchalantly leaned against the desk.

"So, what do you want?" Daniel asked, deciding to get get straight to the point. He had considered attempting escape, sure that he could easily take down the man in front of him. While he had not had any training when he had first joined Stargate Command, Jack had quickly pulled him into the gym for some fairly extensive combat training, lessons that had come in very handy over the last few years. So, while Daniel was confident he could over-power his captor he instead held back, wanting to collect as much information before he attempted anything. Simple questions like: Where Colonel Sheppard and Teyla were or how many 'un-friendlys' there were. Rather important things all in all.

"Answers." The man replied, pausing only a moment at the abrupt question. He remained where he was, the closet door still standing wide. Daniel wished he would close it.

"To what?" Daniel sniffed, using a pencil he found nearby to lift the corner of one of the many stacks of paper to at what it contained. Scanning the large mess, Jackson made note of the countless sheets of information. Shipping logs, flight plans, 'photographic evidence' of extra-terrestrial life. It was the large collection of a conspiracy theorist who saw lies and secrets in every news article or military report.

"Everything. I want to know everything."

...

"Any news?" Ronon asked in his deep voice as he entered Woosley's office, without knocking. Nearly forty-eight hours had past since his team mates disappearance and though they had the best of the best working to find them, the expedition did not seem to be making much progress. The lack of results had everyone a little edgy, each anxious to get their people back quickly while their minds devised horrendous images of each moment they were still held captive.

Everyone on base a their own unique way of coping with the stress. If one were to peek into Rodney's lab, they would find him hunched over his monitor, staring unceasingly at the screen, waiting for a clue to jump out at him. A stained coffee mug sat to his right, the bitter luke warm brew offering that extra jolt and promising another few minutes of caffeine induced energy.

Doctor Beckett, having finished his medical convention and flying back as quickly as he could, was in a constant state of preparedness. The infirmary was newly stocked, beds were set aside for immediate use, and his comm never left his ear so as to never miss the possible call. The Scot was sick with worry, having treated the Colonel after his last encounter and being quite familiar with the physiological terms used within the Genii's medical file.

Jennifer Keller was also quite nervous, and being a slight bit jumpy and high strung in her normal state, she took comfort in the fact that John was considered Carson's patient, first and foremost. While she had accepted that role for a short while, when the Scot had reappeared Sheppard had formally requested him to resume the role of his personal physician. It had been only natural for Jennifer to feel a bit hurt by this request but when Beckett had offered a small explanation of John's general distrust of doctors and slight fear of infirmaries stemming from an early mission gone incredibly wrong she understood. Any further feelings had died out when she had first seen the doctor and pilot interacting during one of the many hospital stays. Their easy banter and calm tones was obvious to all but when she had known what to look for, Keller could see the rigidness in John's muscles and the way his eyes tracked Beckett's every move. The Scot did seem to put John had ease though, without patronizing the man. It was a role Keller gladly handed over to Carson, content to fill in as needed.

Ronon's own way of coping with the stress left a long wake of bruised and limping marines whom had been stupid enough to agree to spare with him. Even now, Richard took a moment to glance around the Satedan where Lorne stood talking to Amelia at the controls, absentmindedly rubbing the growing bruise along his forearm.

"Ronon." Woosley greeted him, ignoring his rude entry for he had learned over the last few month that it would do no good. "No, we have had no changes in the case."

The Satedan growled, turning to leave once again only to be nearly run over by McKay and Zelenka who had just barged through the door, both panting heavily.

"We got a signal!" Zelenka exclaimed in his thick accent while Rodney ran over to the desk and set his lap top down a bit harsher than he had intended. Curious, Ronon took a few small steps forward.

"It was just for a second, so it was just lucky that I had the scanner even running. We didn't have a signal but it wasn't turned off because of the stupid new recruits they gave me-" McKay began, talking at an alarming speed as his fingers flew even faster over the keyboard.

"But that is not the point." Radek spoke up.

"No, the point is; All three transmitters went online for a single second." Rodney continued, pulling up a map of California on his screen, zeroing in on Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. "I was able to triangulate the signal to the Anza-Borrego Desert. Sheppard, Teyla, and Jackson are there."

"Great, let's go." Ronon said, his shoulders tensing as though he was ready to run all the way there by himself.

"How large is this desert?" Woosley asked, peering at the vast map before him.

"Uh, 600,000 acres, but I was able to narrow it down to, well, 400,000 acres." Rodney said, his shoulders falling as he said the number out loud.

"I'll contact Colonel O'Neill. I'm sure he'll be more than willing to lead the search and organize the needed man power." Richard stated calmly, though his mind was spinning with preparations and plans. "Ronon, you and Major Lorne will fly out there and help in the next few hours." He continued, holding up a hand to stop Rodney, who had began to protest. "Dr. McKay, I need you to remain here and monitor the scanner's in case the signal transmits again."

The scientist seemed to accept this, nodding before his attention was once again focused on his computer with Zelenka leaning over his shoulder. Ronon also nodded, walking out without saying anything else, intent on finding Lorne and heading out as soon as possible. The sooner they got on that plane the sooner they could bring Sheppard and Teyla back.

...

"Remove his shirt."

Sora's cold order sent shivers down Teyla's spine despite the heat. The thin t-shirt was the only barrier between John and the harsh rays of the sun. With that gone it would only be a matter of time before the pilot's pale skin would burn to match his arms and neck. He was already showing signs of heat stroke and while Teyla was well aware that she was too, she was able to seek shade along the side of the building. John, however, could not as he was tied in place.

Teyla closed her eyes, wishing that she and John were anywhere else, but she could still hear the tell-tale ripping of fabric and Sheppard's muffled grunts.

Sora grinned as her prisoner's chest came into view, mottled in bruises and covered in a sheen of sweat. His dog-tags hung around his neck, coming to rest above his heart. The sight of the metal gave the former Genii soldier an idea.

She quickly stepped forward and removed the chain from Sheppard's neck. John watched with some concern, which he tried to hide, as she pulled a lighter from her pocket.

The tags were, in a way, his identity.

His name, rank, and serial number.

John was no stranger to the usual methods used to break someone. To take away a person's spirit one must first remove their identity, one's own self. The Colonel had encountered this technique more than a few times, but Sora did not seem like the type for such an action. She did not want him to remember all his past failures.

Sora slowly lifted the chain into the fire, watching as the flames licked at the metal. She held it in place for a few minutes, her gaze never straying from the fire. Releasing the safety valve, the woman tentatively touched the dog-tags. She frowned before turning towards the man named Dave, speaking to him softly so that neither John nor Teyla could understand her. The man quickly disappeared into the building before reappearing again with a blow torch.

Clicking the dangerous tool on, Sora aimed it towards the fence over Sheppard's right shoulder, While the flames were a good few feet above him, the heat was near scorching. Sora watched, disinterested, as the fence melted under the assault until a drop of the molten iron fell, landing on John's bare shoulder. His yelp was sudden, making everyone jump.

Sora cut the power to watch as the liquid metal burned deeper into her prisoner's skin, or would have, if Teyla had not wiped the harmful material away, burning her own fingers in the process. Sheppard still remained silent, panting through the pain. He had no idea a tiny drop of metal could hurt so much.

Teyla was also quiet, looking from her fingers, to John, to Sora who also could not seem to keep from staring at her prisoner. Her eyes had softened, something that Teyla had only seen during the girl's charade, acting her part of the care-free villager very well, and doubts were visible in her expression.

"Sora, please. You do not need to do this." Teyla said softly, one hand resting gently on Sheppard's left shoulder, making sure to avoid the bruises. "You are now on Earth. They're are no wraith, no Genii, no one to fight. What will you gain doing this?"

"I will avenge my father's death. Restore honor." The woman stated, the cold edge returning to her eyes.

"But, was it not the wraith who killed your father?"

"You left him to die, under _his_ orders!" The woman screamed, pointing towards John, who flinched slightly at her raised voice but did nothing more. His eyes closed and breathing becoming more regular. "And, he will suffer a death as painful as my father's." Sora growled, hatred coloring her words.

With that said, Sora reached up to grasp the very tip of the chain, which was only warm, having been furthest from the flame.

John squeezed his eyes shut and held as still as possible as the necklace was lowered over his head and draped around his neck. The tags were still hot but had cooled enough to become solid again, leaving the medal melted in a nearly unrecognizable lump. A small portion had remained flat in the center of the mass, which still bore the engraved name: John.

The sight of the very personal name and the urge to hear her prisoner scream as her father had, Sora pushed the ID tags further into Sheppard's chest with the end of the blowtorch, which was not lit.

John's scream was agonized, reverberating off the brick walls of the building before echoing out into their empty surroundings. Small drops of water forced their way out the corners of his closed eyes and his ragged breaths were the only thing to break the silence that fell around them. His skin hissed angrily as the burning metal burrowed into his flesh, cauterizing the skin as it was pushed deeper, preventing any bleeding.

Each person present was unable to take their eyes off the tortured man before them. Tears ran unhindered down Teyla's cheeks, precious liquid jewels sparkling in the sun of the vast desert. The young geek, Dave was looking more than a little green and queasy at the sight of such cruelty. He was shifting from foot to foot, fighting the urge to run away from such horror or stay for fear of Sora's wrath.

Sora, however, stood stock-still. Her face, expressionless, as she watched John slowly sink into darkness. Without a word, she turned and walked back into the building, drawing a sigh of relief from Teyla. The Athosian had feared Sora unsatisfied, leading her to continue her actions and wake the Colonel with another scorching shower.

**So, it probably isn't all that possible but I've never really played with a blow torch so I have no idea if they actually would work like that. Still thought it was a unique way to whump our boy though :) **

**Please review! It's always great to hear from all of you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! So sorry it took so long to update. The only excuse is that real life got in the way. Yuck. :) **

**I'll try and update sooner next time but enjoy this chapter for now. **

"Everything?" Daniel repeated his captor's sentence. "As in everything I know? Well what do you want me to start with? I'm pretty good with ancient history-"

"I want to know about the complex under Cheyenne Mountain and the alien visitations that the military have hidden from the people." The man replied, bluntly cutting Jackson off.

"Aliens?" Daniel scoffed, squinting his eyes to show his disbelief to the man in front of him. "I think you've spend a few too many minutes in the desert sun out there."

With that statement the man's own eyes widened in surprise and he faltered with the recording device that he had been in the process of turning on. "How did you know we were in the desert?" He demanded.

Daniel simply shrugged. "I know the smell of dirt."

Seeming to drop the subject, he spoke again. "My name's Keith and I have a lot of questions for you."

"Well I don't know anything about any aliens or time travel or whatever other crazy things you think I know about." Jackson stated, his voice fluctuating to show how ridiculous he found the man's accusations.

Keith sighed, seemingly used to people not believing him or taking anything he said seriously. He began to shuffle some papers near him, briefly looking for something before finally pulling out a small stack of photographs.

"Who are these people?" He asked, holding up a photo of first Vala before flashing pictures of each of the other members of his team along with General Landry. Glancing down, Daniel could also see photos of random members of other SG teams.

"Uh, I don't know most of them." Daniel replied, shrugging as he squinted at the pictures. "I-I think that guy's name is Steve, or something.."

"What do they do? What jobs do they have?" Keith asked immediately, ignoring the vague answer, planning on backtracking to it again later.

Jackson shrugged, "Some are scientists of some sort, some are soldiers, and others work in the cafeteria."

"But what do they do, the scientists. What kind of research do they focus on?" The man pushed, leaning forward in his chair, his excitement obvious. "They study alien technology don't they? Like the Asgard transporter tech?"

"Umm, I guess. I really don't talk to them."

"Is there anyone you talk to in that place?" Keith asked, frustrated by Jackson's apparent lack of information.

Daniel shrugged before mumbling. "I'm a bit of a loner, in truth. Stay to my office most the time."

Sighing, Keith twisted, throwing the photos back on the desk before facing him once again. "You hungry?" He asked.

Knowing better than to accept anything the man offered, no matter how harmless he seemed, Daniel remained silent, simply staring at him.

"I'll go and get us some food." Keith stated, ignoring his prisoner's gaze. "But you'll have to go back in the closet."

He continued, motioning towards the closed door as he stood.

"I think I'm good out here. I won't touch anything, promise." Daniel said, leaning back in his chair despite his still bound hands. "I just hang out till you get back."

"I'm not that dumb, Doc. Now stand up and get in there. I'll even leave the bag off this time, so move it." The man replied, tugging on Daniel's forearm to pull him up. Jackson groaned, stumbling slightly. He winced as he felt his knees begin to shake minutely as he was pulled towards the open darkness, the shadows forming an empty void. A void that his deepest self feared beyond true reason.

A soft whisper seemed to emanate from the black maul, beckoning him in with a gentle tone.

"Danny...Danny."

Jakson closed his eyes, wincing at the words, whispered so kindly, so lovingly. He now knelt in the center of the closet, the darkness already seeming to close in around him.

"I'll be back soon." Keith stated, before shutting the door behind Jackson.

...

Teyla moaned as the sun beat down on her head and shoulders, burning every inch of exposed skin. The dark mocha hue of her skin was more resilient to the unforgiving rays but she could not help but wince at the sight of John's usually pale flesh now a harsh red with blisters covering his neck, chest, and face, some of which had broken open and were sluggishly weeping a clear liquid. The pilot had burned under the vibrant rays within the first few hours they had spent in their open-aired prison. She could only hope that Doctor Jackson was in better shape, where ever they had taken him. She had heard nothing from the archeologist since they had arrived nor had he been mentioned by their 'guard' who had ignored them due to strict orders from Sora.

Poking her slender fingers through the barrier between them, Teyla slowly ran them through Sheppard's blood crusted, ebony hair. The beaten Colonel was secured to the fence without any slack, arms stretched out to each side to the extent that his shoulders screamed in constant agony. The sharp edges of the each link dug painfully into his back, breaking the skin in a few places where blood welled up around the metal. While the rough edges of such a fence should have been a sign of poor quality, the metal links were strong and unmovable.

He had his legs pulled up close to his body. A futile attempt to decrease the pain that radiated from the bruises littering his stomach. The hardened metal that dotted his skin shone under the sun, surrounded by red, inflamed skin.

Conversation between the two of them had tapered off with each injury the Colonel obtained. Lifting his head now required too much energy so it remained hanging, chin resting on his chest. They were both suffering from heat sickness, leaving them nauseous but having had nothing to eat or drink they were left with no way to find relief. Hours had past since Sora had made an appearance and while Teyla was content with her absence, the silence was concerning to the Athosian, who was left wondering what the next pain subjected upon the Colonel would be.

The Athosian felt desperate to help John avoid any further attentions but she could find no way out of the fence cage. Her fingers were cracked and bleeding from where she had attempted to claw at the hard clay or pull up the chain links but all of her attempts ended in failure.

Teyla gave a short, frustrated yell as she fell backwards, landing on her butt as she lost her grip on the fence, the metal rattling as if it were mocking her not-so-graceful position.

"Teyla?" John hissed, his voice cracking from the lack of moisture. "You alright?" He asked, unable to turn his head to see her, though he had heard her yelp.

"I am fine, John. Just fell." She replied, feeling guilty having woke him from the light sleep.

The pilot nodded, before his eyes fell closed once again.

"Please rest, Colonel. I will rouse you if anything important happens." She urged him, gently carding her hand through his ebony hair.

...

Sora could not help but grin as she walked into the yard. Teyla was asleep, curled up next to the building with an arm draped over her face to shield it from the night wind. The breeze itself was a welcome relief for the midnight air was still uncomfortably warm, to say the least, but the sand it kicked up was unpleasant when the particles invaded the prisoners' eyes. While Teyla slept in relative comfort, in the shelter of the building wall, John was exposed to all the elements.

The pilot was currently awake, the cooler temperature rousing him much like the creatures of the surrounding desert. One such animal had John's complete attention. A large, ink black scorpion was crawling just out of his reach but it was slowly coming closer. While Sheppard knew very little about the arachnids he did know that (A) the smaller they were the more poison they possessed and (B) while this one was big he still did not want to be on the receiving end of the wicked dagger it called a stinger. So enthralled with the scorpion, John did not hear Sora approach. Only when the vibrations of her footsteps sent the scorpion skittering away did the pilot look up. The wariness and distrust John had felt while watching the dangerous creature only doubled as he looked into his captor's eyes along with a flutter of fear within his stomach.

"Oh good. Glad to see you didn't freeze inside." He quipped, glancing at the large window air conditioner. He was only rewarded with a small toothless grin.

"You must remind me to apologize to Teyla when she awakens. I blamed her when she was only following orders." Sora stated. "It was not her fault my father was killed."

"Your father chose his own death." John said softly but firmly to the woman standing before him. The vibrant moon hung over her head, casting it's soft, silver rays across her shoulders and in it's gentle light Sora took on a youthful appearance once again. The bright eyed farmer's daughter John had first met, a petite girl who could out drink the village men and was looking forward to the future with hope. The lines created by hardship in the Pegasus galaxy as well as the few years spent imprisoned on Earth were gone and her hair, hidden in shadow, was full and wavy.

Sheppard softened slightly as he looked at her, seeing the woman she had once been and the woman she could have become.

"I was betrothed, you know."

Her whisper was soft, nearly lost in the wind that stirred the night air.

John remained silent unsure how best to answer. However he replied, he could easily receive pain in retaliation and Sora was entirely too unpredictable to even be assured that his silence would not warrant a blow.

"His name was Pranos." Sora continued, not seeming to mind his quiet nature. Her whisper was so quiet that John had to lean forward to hear it. "He was a scientist."

The Colonel was taken back, expecting the Genii warrior to be with, well, another Genii warrior.

"Pranos was smart, lead in his department." Sora's eyes were lost in the past, staring unseeingly through John. Lost in the memories of their times spent together but that had been before. That was an innocent Sora. She was grown now, having become an adult early on. Called to protect her people, she had joined the military at a young age,training each day and preparing to face the wraith. She had not done battle with the wraith when the Atlantis team had arrived for that fated trading mission but she had been eager. Her father's death had shaken her to the core and her need for revenge had driven her to join Kolya's strike force.

Sora's green eyes hardened as unpleasant memories unsurfaced and inner turmoil began to grow once more.

"But he's dead, along with my father." She growled softly. "Would you like to know how he died, Sheppard?"

Sensing the increasing danger, John pulled his knees up close to his chest.

"He died trying to retrieve a ZPM. Do you remember the poison, Sheppard? The way it cut into his hands, releasing the deadly toxin?"

Her voice rose as her passion and anger increased stirring Teyla from her sleep.

"You knew the code, you knew the sequence to arrange them but you let him die!" Lunging forward, Sora's callused fingers dug into John's thick hair, pulling up until his neck was strained to it's limit.

"Sora!" Teyla exclaimed, stumbling to her feet before coming up behind the pilot.

"You killed them both! Both dead! Both!" She screamed, tugging harshly at his hair with each sentence as tears silently leaked from her eyes to make small rivulets of salt water trail down her cheeks.

Pulling back her hand, Sora struck her prisoner watching with satisfaction as blood dribbled from Sheppard's nose and mouth. John remained silent, head still tilted upward, his bright eyes staring into hers. The twin orbs were calm, even peaceful. Focused on her with a look of sorrow, perhaps even pity for the young girl he had once met.

Rage exploded within Sora, she did not wish his pity. She wanted his fear and his pain. She wanted him to feel everything her father and Pranos had felt, to die as painfully as they had and then some. Unfortunately, no longer had her wide supply of drugs she had once had but she could be creative when the need arose.

The smile that spread across Sora's red lips sent a shudder down John's spine, the expression promising him what was sure to be agony.

"Our time together is about to come to an end, dear John." She hissed softly into his ear before releasing his scalp and walking away.

"What was that all about?" Teyla asked, breaking her silence.

John was quiet for a moment, unsure if he wanted to explain it all just yet.

"Did you know Sora had a fiance?" He asked instead.

**There you go, a little back story on Sora. Hope it cleared up a bit for you. Please review, cause it's always great to hear from all of you and it makes me darn happy! :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright, so the holidays have hit and things are a little/lot crazy this week especially but I rushed to get this chapter up for you before hand. So, I know it's short and hopefully the next one will be longer and sooner. And I'm sorry ****for the sporadic updates, I know it's hard to really get into a story when that happens but it's the best I can do right now. **

**Anyways, please enjoy this chapter. **

"Radek, can you take a closer look at those crushed transmitters?" Rodney asked, his eyes still trained on the computer monitor, attempting to further decrease the distance they needed to search. "I want to know what that thing really is, if it's not theirs." He continued, referring to what they had assumed were the remains of John's. Teyla's and Daniel's transmitters. The shattered fragments of metal had been found on the pier when the group had first disappeared.

"Already did. The shards are a transmitter, but they're not Sheppard's or Teyla's-"

"We knew that, genius." Rodney muttered.

"But, wait. The transmitter belongs to Sora." Radek continued, ignoring McKay's sarcasm. "But I thought they were supposed to have been inserted without her knowledge?"

Rodney paused, staring through his computer screen. "Well she figured it out, removed it...and crushed it on the pier. Why would she do that and not have destroyed it the moment she escaped?" He muttered aloud. "And why did we get a short signal from the other transmitters? She must not have destroyed them...but it makes no logical sense."

"She wasn't making any sense during the last encounter either. She's clinically insane, McKay, we can't predict what she has or had planned."

"So, what do you think since your such an expert on the maniac? Why would she keep their transmitters in tact?"

Radek shrugged, pondering the question for a moment."Trophies? The thrill of playing with the 'flame' as they say."

"Fire, it's 'playing with fire'." The Canadian corrected.

Rodney paused, once again staring into space before his radio snapped him out of it.

"Doctor McKay. Come in please." Woolsey requested over the intercom.

"McKay, here."

"Doctor, have you made any progress?" The politician asked, his voice possessing a 'tinny' edge through the static.

"Um, yeah." Rodney muttered, his fingers flying over his keyboard. "We've narrowed the field and I've sent the coordinates to Lorne already."

"The transmitter.." Radek urged, hovering over his fellow scientist's shoulder, straining to hear Richard's voice over the small speaker.

"And the transmitter, found on the dock. I thought something was weird with it-"

"We thought it was weird." Zelenka broke in, mumbling under his breath.

"-it's Sora's."

"That was meant to be administered without her knowledge. How did she discover it?" Someone had slipped up big time and Woosley was going to find out who. They could not, very well, have their high security inmates running about the Earth while their back-up plan was discovered so easily.

Both scientists shrugged before remembering that they were on the intercom. "Dunno." Rodney replied. "Anyway that's all I have right now."

"Very well. Please keep me informed."

"Uhuh, sure." McKay mumbled, already focused solely on his monitor and paying next to no attention to the radio any more.

Richard shook his head, slightly amused at the man's limited attention span, before returning to his own work. He found it very troubling that a high security prisoner, such as Sora could have gone missing and not have been noticed for such a long time. It must have taken her a while to pull together such a plan after all. Someone had made a serious mistake and Woosley now had a few phone calls to make.

...

The morning sunrise was gorgeous as it stretched across the horizon before Sheppard. It's vibrant rays gently warming the prisoner's face. A soft touch that brought the promise of worsening his already badly burned skin. John was no stranger to sunburns, having taken up surfing in high school he had had his fair share of reddened skin, but this burn was far worse than any of those before. His skin was no longer the usual red but was now a muted purple and blisters covered his shoulders, cheekbones, and nose, seeping a clear fluid. Bruises patch-worked his chest and abdomen creating a canvas of greens, yellows, and blacks mottled together in a vast array of colors. His flesh reminded him of a painting he had seen during a field trip to the local museum he had seen in his youth. The abstract art had stood out to the small boy, who was used to order and structure in his life, with a strong-willed father like he had. The chaos and random patterns had intrigued him then but now that he had found himself as the canvas, it wasn't nearly as enjoyable.

"John, are you awake?" Teyla's soft voice asked, breaking the silence of the dawn.

"Yeah," Was Sheppard's half-hearted reply, barely a whisper.

"How do you feel?"

"Alright." And in truth, he did. His shoulders and arms were numb and, though the slightest movement increased the pain, as long as he stayed still he only had to deal with the dull ache.

"They should bring us some water in a little while." She mentioned, trying to start a conversation with the man.

"Good." Sheppard's one-word answer was hollow. The pair fell into silence once again, both watching as the sun continued it's upwards climb into the sky. A rooster's crow was faintly heard from a far off ranch, traveling through the vast emptiness. Guilt coursed through John in waves as the peace had his mind wandering. He was unable to to shake the image of a young and bright eyed Sora, full of promise and hope and Sheppard could not help but hold himself partly responsible for her down-ward spiral.

He acknowledged the fact that she had chosen the life of a soldier where danger and death were expected on a day to day basis but the sudden occurrence that he had witnessed Sora's significant other's demise came as a bit of a shock, having always assumed she was loyally committed to the Genii nation and no one else.

Pranos' death was his own fault, the idiot shouldn't have jumped the gun and expected the combination to be so simple. Sheppard had learned quickly that nothing was simple in either the Pegasus or Milky Way galaxy. Pranos had chosen his own death, John acknowledged that but it was still a human life lost and the Colonel was not so caught up in the 'Whose Good and Whose Bad' scenario to view death of an enemy as victory. In his mind neither party won in the end, simply stated: one survives, the other dies. There was nothing glorious about the battle, and there was only one thing to gain. Safety. Not for himself, for there would always be another villain, but for his country, his people, his family.

While that protective resolve had been extremely strong since his youthful days of protecting helpless or injured animals and fighting the school bullies it had only grown stronger when Torren had been born. Sheppard had always wanted children but had never felt it would be responsible to bring a kid into the world, as both he and Nancy were consistently traveling and did not have the time to commit to such a commitment. So he had gladly adopted the role of honorary uncle to the young boy who had the Air Force Colonel wrapped around his little finger on the very day of his birth as John had cradled the new-born infant in his arms, piloting the wraith air-craft to safety.

Torren had also changed the dynamic between John and his mother. For where Sheppard once saw a highly capable warrior he now saw a still highly capable warrior with a small child to care for. In his mind she should no longer be taking any necessary or unnecessary risks. This change of option had brought along a great many conflicts between the two of them but after a long discussion within a seldom used corridor they had come to an agreement. Teyla would still accompany them on missions but, if John deemed the situation too dangerous, she would leave and seek immediate safety.

"Well, that deal fell through." John thought, watching out of the corner of his eye as Teyla attempted to pry the corner of the chain-link apart. He could clearly see her raw skin, burned and bruised. Her hair was no longer held in a neat bun but large strands were falling out to cascade cascade around her face. She was disheveled and obviously stressed and he had led her to this.

He should have sent her back the moment that uneasy feeling had settled in his gut. Mulling over his guilt-ridden thoughts John did not notice Teyla return to his side, the chain-link barrier still in place, nor did he notice as the old wooden door to the ranch opened. Sheppard's attention was drawn as Sora stepped though, however.

"Good morning!" She said, her tone holding more cheer than it had throughout their imprisonment. A standard plastic water bottle was held in one hand but the contents were clearly not the life-giving water John so desired. The liquid was a pale yellow, sickly in appearance.

"Today's the day, Sheppard." She announced excitedly. "Your last day alive and you lucky boy, you get to spend it on your home planet after all."

Fear crept into John's heart and he now had now had no doubt that whatever was in the bottle was definitely not a bit of stale water.

"Now, I do not have the wonderful cabinet full of the concoctions that I used to possess but I think this will be almost as efficient."

John found he could not take his eyes off the deadly fluid even as the Genii unscrewed the cap. While he, himself was silent, Teyla was not going to allow this to happen.

"No, Sora!" She yelled, clutching onto the woven metal in front of her with both hands. "Please, don't do this. Give him an honorable death, something quick. Not poison!"

"Pranos did not receive an honorable death. Why should this scum?" Sora screamed in response then without waiting for an answer, the red-head grabbed a fist full of the pilot's own ebony hair, pulling back to tilt his head up.

"No!" Teyla quickly snaked her arm through the broken links and smacked the bottle as it inched towards John's lips. Sora shrieked with rage, grabbed the Athosian's wrist and twisted until she heard a sharp pop. Throbbing agony over-took Teyla's arm instantly and she quickly retracted the appendage to cradle it near her chest. Having seen his companion's pain, Sheppard smashed his left knee into Sora's side, attempting to break her hold but the action only seemed to feed the woman's anger. Her own knee quickly crashed into John's legs, pinning him in place. Her rage over taking her for a moment, Sora once again laid into the pilot with her fists, focusing a fair amount of the blows on his face and the dogtags still embedded in his flesh. Blood began to ooze around the edges and Sheppard had a hard time muffling the screams that were clawing to escape his throat. A harsh hand grasped his hair once again while the other picked up the fallen water bottle. It had lost a little less than half it's contents during the struggle, leaving a decent amount still within the container. Grinning, Sora inched the 'water' forward once again, keeping a close eye on Teyla for any further interference.

"Now, be a good boy a drink all of it." She sang in a child-like voice. Tilting the bottle upright, John gagged as the substance flooded his mouth, working around his clenched teeth. His skin immediately began to burn at contact and there was no way he was going to let this stuff hit his stomach. "Swallow it!" Sora growled low in her throat even as she slammed a knee between his legs. The sharp pain made John gasp, choking on the chemical before his body automatically began to clear the way for the desperately needed oxygen.

"John!" Teyla's cry was weak, knowing the fight was lost.

With the bottle empty and her prisoner gasping before her, Sora rose and began to walk away.

"He should last a few hours, maybe until the evening."

"What-what did you give him?" Teyla asked, stammering slightly, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

**So, John's situation has gotten a bit more dire. Please review and let me know what you thought! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, so this is just a short chapter. I've been out of town and unable to post so sorry about the long wait. My goal is to finish this story before Christmas so as not to draw out the wait any more. **

**I'm also sorry for not responding to the reviews from the last chapter. My account would not let me send any replies and I'm not sure why. Each review is appreciated greatly and I hope it will let me respond this time. :)  
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**Anyways, please enjoy this snippet:  
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"Bleach." Sora simply stated, shrugging her shoulders before disappearing through the door.

"John?" Teyla could only murmur, her left hand snaking through to squeeze his shoulder. Fire burned along Sheppard's mouth and throat and he could feel the sores breaking out upon the vulnerable internal tissue. Deep hacking coughs shook John, each one causing the pain to spike to almost unmanageable levels.

"T-teyla." He groaned between a particularly violent attack and the next. "Under..my bed. B-box for...e'eryone-"

"No, John, you're going to be fine." The Athosian argued, gently stroking the hair over Sheppard's sweat dampened temple. "Just try not to swallow much. It will only make it worse."

While Sheppard had found breathing difficult due to the extreme heat and his cracked ribs it was now nearly impossible. The caustic fluid still seemed to burn the lining of his mouth and while the few drops that had seeped into his trachea made each breath like inhaling fire the rest destroyed his esophagus. Wrenching, his body still tried in vain to expel the bleach but he soon stilled, laying limp against the chain link fence, the plastic ties the only thing keeping his arms in the stretched position. Dark tendrils encroached on his vision and the sounds surrounding were slowly fading away only to be replaced by a soft hiss.

"John? John!" Teyla panicked as his head fell forward, chin resting on his chest. A small dribble of scarlet leaked from his lips as well as round droplets from his nose. Vibrant rubies sparkling in the sun against the bruised and burned skin. Tentatively, she reached out to place two slender fingers along his jawline, fearful she would not find the minute beat of his living heart but it was there, keeping steady rhythm underneath her touch. Trailing upwards, Teyla gently stroked Sheppard's cheek, silently urging him to remain strong.

"You're going to be fine." Teyla muttered again, saying it more to convince herself than the unresponsive pilot. "We're going to be fine."

...

A paper plate that held two cold pieces of pepperoni pizza sat before Daniel, the grease having congealed to a very unappetizing cheese sludge. A can of mountain dew was also there, sitting unopened. The archeologist's hands were now untied with only his ankles secured to the metal folding chair, leaving him free to take the food if he chose to. In truth the thought had never crossed his mind. While the meal itself was rather unappealing, Jackson knew better than to accept the possibly tainted food. It was not as though he suspected his captor to have down anything to his food. The man did not seem to possess 'the guts' to poison him and surely did not have access to any sort of truth serum but it was better safe than sorry.

Keith, himself, was perched on the opposite side of the small card table, chewing absentmindedly on his own pizza while pouring over the stacks of papers in the center of the table. Daniel had now been sitting in the same position for near an hour, firmly holding onto his cover story as he was drilled by the curious conspiracy theorist. He could have easily escaped but he was hoping to draw a little information from the man as well. Jackson needed to know what lay beyond the room if he were to successfully find the Colonel and Teyla before high-tailing it out of there. So he bid his time, waiting as patiently as possible but he could not withhold his sigh as yet another random question was fired his way.

"Which company provides the food deliveries to the Cheyenne complex? It is a military establishment, you must have a cafeteria." Keith paused, continually scribbling on his notepad in what had to be the worst hand-writing Jackson had ever seen. All the questions had been like this. Pointless and useless. Questions about the actual mountain, about the catering, even about the toilet paper the janitors stocked the bathrooms with. Daniel's response of aliens refusing to use two-ply had only earned him an exasperated glare.

Remaining in character, Jackson rolled his eyes slightly, staring at the man for a moment before speaking. "Do you think I would pay attention to such a pointless fact?" He asked.

Now it was Keith's turn to sigh. "Alright, fine. Then, can you tell me what the walls of the complex are made of? Some sort of alien composition or maybe it's an organic material like in Farscape with Moya?" His voice rose in pitch as he grew more excited at the possibility.

"Umm, I'm pretty sure the walls are just concrete."

"What about the massive amounts of energy used each day? I've checked with the electrical company. The power the complex pulls is massively increased at certain, random, moments of the day in rather same lengths of time. An average of only a few seconds but I've clocked as long as thirty-eight minutes before but never any longer." Keith jumped to his feet and began to pace, unable to hold still any longer. "What is it they're working on in there? A weapon? Teleportation? The public has a right to know!"

Again, Daniel shrugged. "How should I know. Look, I keep to myself. I keep my head down, don't stick my nose into anyone else's business and they don't go looking into mine. I do my work and leave."

"What is your work?" The geek asked for the first time, suddenly interested in what his prisoner did.

"I translate and catalog the artifacts they bring to me. Some times I travel to the actual dig sight, but that's only on occasion."

Keith's excitement grew once again. "What locations? Where are you? An alien planet? The abandoned civilization on the moon?"

"Noo." Daniel replied, drawing out the 'no'. "I've gone to Egypt and South America mostly. To study the civilizations there."

"But, the artifacts they bring you? You must not recognize some of them."

"No, I've identified all of them. Mayans, Egyptian. I sometimes get some Native American artifacts but that's kinda rare. You know, it's interesting-" Daniel leaned forward, his hands moving with enthusiasm.

"No alien planets?" Keith asked, the disappointment in his voice clear.

Daniel sighed, preparing to respond with another sarcastic snap when a sharp, demanding yell called through the closed bedroom door, making both of them turn towards the noise. The thin wooden door flung open, shuddering as it rebounded against the wall with a loud crack. Jackson's eyes narrowed as he received his first look at the woman who he was sure to be the woman from the pier..and in charge, given the way Keith had flinched at her appearance and had yet to met her gaze.

"Idiot!" She screamed suddenly, her eyes flaring as she saw the two of them. The woman marched forward. Jackson had no time to raise his arms or defend himself as her hand flew out with lightening speed and struck him across the cheek bone. The force of the blow send his chair toppling over, jarring the oxygen from his lungs.

"What was that for?" Keith asked timidly as Daniel attempted to lever himself upright once again.

This time the sudden strike caught the geek off guard.

"Ow." He moaned, rubbing his cheek.

"Secure your prisoner." She growled threateningly. With that said, she stomped from the room, surprising the both.

"Uh...Sorry about that." Keith muttered, shaking himself from his shocked state. He stood, grunting as he pulled Daniel back up, the chair creaking with the movement.

"Can-can you..um, lean forward?" He asked, holding up an open zip tie while his other hand rubbed the back of his neck with nervous energy.

Considering his options, Daniel slowly nodded before slowly leaning forward. He already knew that there was nothing to be used as a weapon anywhere nearby and with that crazy, crazy woman on the other side of the door, Jackson decided to wait until night fell in the hopes that she was asleep...or, at least, a little calmer.

With his hands now secure, Daniel felt his chair jerked backwards a short distance and then, once again, and again. Keith was grunting with each movement, attempting to tug Daniel and the furniture back into the waiting closet.

"Uh, do you want some help?" The archeologist asked as he moved another inch or so.

"No-no, I got it." Keith answered, sweat beading across his forehead.

It took Keith another ten minutes before Daniel was actually placed back within the closest, leaving him wondering if it would have been simpler and quicker to attempt escape.

**Please review! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, they mean a lot!**

The sigh that emitted from Major Lorne was drowned out by the constant hum of the propeller that spun above him. Ronon sat beside him in the copilot's seat. The sides of the helicopter were open, leaving the wind to add to the roar. The Satedan's hair was tied back and he had the protective headphones balanced awkwardly over his ears, the thick dreads not allowing the band to sit properly. Glancing down at the dashboard, examining their coordinates. They only had two more quadrants to search, having scanned the other half of the area the day before, but had found nothing except a few abandon shacks. With each one they had scanned for life signs before moving on. The time seemed to drag with each passing mile as it speed past beneath them. While Evan was paying close attention to piloting the craft Ronon was scanning the horizon in all directions, his eyes open and alert for any signs of his missing team members.

The land seemed to go on forever, broken in the far distance by the tall peaks of the mountains. Emptiness for as far as the eye could see. If he was to be honest with himself, Ronon could only hope that once this was all over to never see a grain of sand again. Turning to look past Lorne, the Satedan scanned the land to his left. A glint along the skyline caught his eye and he had to take a second look, just to be sure it was not a mirage induced by the surrounding desert. The shine was still there, almost acting like a strobe light in the bright sun.

"Major." Ronon said gruffly, speaking in the microphone on his headset while nudging the man beside him. "Over there. I see something."

Evan nodded, guiding the helicopter in the new direction.

...

"John!" Teyla's voice was urgent as she shook the unconscious pilot. "Colonel Sheppard. Please, wake up. There is a helicopter."

The giant metal aircraft was still a fair distance away, far enough that Teyla could not yet hear the usual rumble of the propellers but the black outline was growing larger and more distinct each minute.

"John, you must wake up!" She encouraged Sheppard without removing her gaze from the flying hunk of metal, afraid it might simply disappear. Her efforts were rewarded with a small moan and nothing more.

Teyla watched in earnest as the helicopter grew closer, her heart climbing each second only for it to drop as the aircraft continued on it's course...away from them.

"No!" Teyla yelled in frustration. Looking around him, searching for anything to use to draw attention to themselves but she found nothing. Sighing, she turned back to Sheppard, a small tear falling from her right eye. A bitter smile, however, tugged at the corners of her mouth when her gaze found John dog-tags, still embedded in his flesh. They were shining in the sunlight which gave her a desperate idea. Using her fingernails, Teyla eased up the edge of the melted clump of metal, wincing as she pulled in from John's skin. Blood bubbled around her fingers where it tore but it was soon free. Holding it up, she angled the metallic fragment so it caught the sun, hoping to attract the craft's attention. She bit her tongue in anticipation, eyes never straying from the helicopter

"Yes!" Teyla exclaimed as the chopper turned, heading back towards their position. "There are coming back John!"

A relieved smile broke through her lips, finally seeing their freedom in sight once again. The bright rays of the sun reflected brightly off the metal sides of the craft causing her to squint, but the Athosian still did not look away, afraid that if she did it would disappear. A mirage created by her thirst and heat delirium. Teyla blinked quickly, sighing as it was still indeed there once she opened her eyes.

Grinning, she continued to shift the small melted clump of metal in the sun with one hand after ripping a strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt to press into John's chest, hoping the compression would stop the sluggish flow of blood. So intent upon the coming rescue, Teyla was unaware of the squeal of the gate or the footsteps that stopped behind her. She did however notice the sudden blow, that caught the side of her head and sent her to the hard-packed earth. Despite her dehydrated and weakened state, Teyla quickly rolled to her feet and into a defensive stance. Sora stood tall, the Genii pride which she had once possessed shining once again within her eyes. She stood uncomfortably close to the Colonel with only the chain link fence as a barrier. Her contemplative gaze fell on the approaching helicopter for a few moments before turning back towards Teyla and for a brief second the Athosian saw a flicker of peace and resignation in her brown eyes before cold determination consumed the woman's features.

"Sora, please." Teyla's voice was near a whisper, praying that their captor show a small mercy. Images of Sora burying the knife that hung on her belt through the chain links and into the Colonel's back as a last effort towards revenge flashed within Teyla's mind. It was not her father's knife, but that did not change it's potential to harm. "It's over."

Sora's snarl and sudden leap towards her caught Teyla by surprise but she quickly overcame it, parrying the Genii's first thrust to her shoulder. The knife's metal blade gleamed in the sunlight as Sora and Teyla fought, exchanging blow for blow. Fueled by her rage, Sora managed to deliver a number a harsh kicks and punches to Teyla's abdomen but never landed a hit with the weapon. The two continued to fight, fairly equally matched, their movements slowing as exhaustion set in.

"No!" Sora wailed throughout her movements, venting her anger to the world. "You killed them! They're dead!"

Tears streamed down her face as her emotions overwhelmed her but she continued to fight, her motions becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. "Kill me! Just kill me!" She screamed, wishing for Teyla to finally end her hurt, end her pain. "Do it now!"

The helicopter now hung almost overhead, the wind kicking up the sand and sending both woman's hair in every direction. The Colonel lay still, not even roused by the huge gusts assaulting his body.

"No, Sora!" Teyla had to shout to be heard over the rumble of the blades, still deflecting the woman's weak assaults. "We can help you!"

"NOO!" The Genii soldier gave a final wail as she lunged towards the Athosian, arm upraised and knife pointed to her heart.

Pivoting on her foot, Teyla spun, knowing her movement was not quick enough and that the blade was sure to hit her shoulder at least. Both of them were surprised when a bright red light hit Sora in the center of her back, dropping her like a stone. Her hand loosened around the knife which fell harmlessly to the ground, missing Teyla's foot by an inch. She stood there in shock, taking a moment to process each event as she stared down at the red head. A woman she had know most of her life and once loved as a true friend. She had landed on her stomach, arms outstretched and her head cocked to the side allowing Teyla to see her face. Tear tracks stained her face. Teyla watched as her lips parted in a small smile before the glimmer of life left her soft brown eyes.

"Goodbye, Sora. I hope you find the peace you never had." Teyla whispered, before turning to run out of the gate which Sora had left open and dropping to her knees in front of Sheppard.

"Colonel? John!" She spoke loudly, attempting to urge the pilot to wake as she patted him on the cheek. Teyla scrambled to tug on the zip-ties that bound him to the fence, digging harshly into his skin. Nearly as quickly as she had arrived Teyla ran back over to Sora's body, grabbed the knife and returned. She carefully cut the plastic, lowering his arms gently to his lap, mindful not to set the open wounds into the sand but considering the amount of dirt still flying through the air, Teyla doubted it would make much of a difference. The lacerations themselves barely bleed, hinting at how severely dehydrated the Air Force pilot truly was.

Heavy footsteps came up behind her and Teyla immediately knew who they belonged to.

"Helps on it's way." Ronon grunted, as he knelt down beside them.

"Dr. Jackson." Teyla said urgently, taking the box of medical supplies that the Satedan carried. "He is inside. Only two civilians, but they may be armed."

"Right." Nodding towards Lorne, he and the Major approached the building, keeping low and watching each others backs. Taking shelter along the external wall, Lorne peered through the window into an empty and sparse living room. He gave Ronon the clear sign before he kicked the door down and rushed inside. Two sets of eyes scanned the entire room, looking for any signs of a threat before moving on to the next room, then the next. Forcing open the last door, Ronon and Lorne walked into a small bedroom. Papers and books lay strewn everywhere and in the far corner sat an over turned mattress that seemed to shake on it's own accord.

"Step out of there!" Lorne ordered. Timidly, with arms raised high overhead, two men appeared from behind the bedding.

"Where's Dr. Jackson!" The Major asked, smirking slightly as the two men flinched before one raised a shaking finger towards the closet door. It was then that Ronon noticed the steady thumping against the barrier. Trusting Ronon to have his back, Evan walked over to the closet, after lifting the key that sat on the nearby desk, and opened the door.

"It's about time." Daniel grumbled as he sat in the shadows, leaning forward to allow Evan to free him from the chair. "Glad to see you guys decided to show up."

"Are you alright, Dr. Jackson?" Lorne asked, His gun trained once again on the geeks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You got this Lorne?" Ronon suddenly asked, shifting from foot to foot. Needing to get back and help Teyla and John. The guy had looked like death and Ronon wasn't so sure he wasn't dead now. The sound of a second chopper roared overhead, making all five occupants in the room look up out of habit.

"Go." Evan replied, handing his second fire arm to the archeologist. Ronon nodded before running back outside. Already the medics had John on a stretcher and were rushing him into the newly arrived aircraft, it's motor still running and prepped for a quick take off. The fact that they were in such a hurry came as a comfort for Ronon, telling him that the Colonel was indeed alive at the moment. Another paramedic was fussing over Teyla as she waved him off, her eyes focused on John even as she climbed into a seat in the helicopter. "Ronon!" She exclaimed as he came rushing up. Grinning, Ronon slipped up beside her seconds before they took off, thankful for the fact that the craft was able to hold Teyla, two medical staff, himself and John, cot and all comfortably.

"Your shooting was very impressive back there and I thank you for it." Teyla said, laying a hand over Ronon's own much larger one. The shot had indeed been impressive, having been taken from a moving vehicle which had yet to land from several yards away.

"No problem." Ronon replied, before reaching over to grab some medical supplies. "Now, let's patch you up." He said, before casting another glance at the Colonel who was already receiving a large bag of saline and had both medics hovering over him. Teyla had given them the full but extremely short version of his injuries and they were doing all they could do for the time being, already planning what would be required when they touched down again. An I.V had already been placed in the crook of her arm and Ronon began to carefully clean the dirt away from the cuts on her face, his large fingers surprisingly gently against her burned skin.

The flight to the nearest hospital was near an hour, during which time Teyla explained in detail each wound John had received and, the first thing on her list, the bleach.

**Please keep reviewing! Merry Christmas everyone!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey Everyone! Sorry it's been soo long. I have a long list of excuses but I won't bore you with them. Hopefully things have calmed down enough that I can update more regularly again. **

Carson shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the puddle jumper hummed beneath him. A barren desert passed by at a fast pace, blurring outside the cockpit window. While the craft's seating was indeed very comfortable, the source of the doctor's aches was in the form of the small child who lay, sound asleep on his lap. Not wishing to wake the child, Beckett had remained in the same position throughout most of their journey and, no longer as young and spry as he once had been, the Scot's bones had begun to protest. While they had nearly reached their destination the look of pure innocence that sat upon the young face as he explored the worlds within his dreams was enough to still the kind hearted man for the last few minutes. Soft snores faintly echoed through the small aircraft but they were not emitted by Torren. McKay sat slumped over behind Carson, his mouth hanging slightly open and his head resting on the internal wall. Both Beckett and Harris, the pilot assigned to fly them to the hospital, we're very grateful that the Canadian's snores had not grown louder but even if they had Carson would not have woken him. This three hour flight was perhaps the longest the scientist had slept since his team mates had gone missing, having spent every moment to gather more clues, intently looking for that final bit of information. Now that it had been found and Sheppard, Teyla, and Daniel rescued Rodney would allow himself to sleep, though it would most likely be in uncomfortable hospital chairs.  
>A soft coo from the toddler still curled up in his lap drew the doctor's attention back to the boy who had yet to move from the position he had fallen asleep in. Torren, however, had not always been so peaceful. The toddler had understandably been missing his mother, and was not content to sit in the metal machine, in which he was not allowed to touch any of the shiny, bright buttons. Torren had behaved well through the first twenty minutes of the trip, his hands busy with the toys Beckett had been sure to bring along but soon his eyes had begun to wander and the small, pudgy fingers had begun to itch to touch the tempting consul. A battle of wills had soon taken place, Torren reaching for each individual button only to have his attempts thwarted by an attentive Scottish doctor. The clever toddler did manage to depress one button, reaching for a small blue one before quickly altering course and finding a glowing green one. While the action did nothing to their flight, the small town they had been over at the time had a few strange reports of UFOs that day before Carson switched the cloak back into activity and pushed his chair further still from the dashboard.<br>They now had only another ten to fifteen minutes remaining before they reached the hospital. Major Lorne had gained access to the helicopter pad for their landing in hopes of avoiding any prying eyes. Ideally, Beckett and his fellow passengers would have simply 'beamed-in' from the Dedalus but the ship was currently a few hundred light years away helping ferry refuges, the victims of a dying sun. With that being the case, Woolsey had ok'd the use of a jumper, as long as they were very careful to not draw attention and except for the small mishap involving curious pudgy fingers, they had not.

Carson let out a sigh as the hospital came into view, both in relief that feeling was soon going to return to his legs once again and the fact that he would soon see his friends which was the only way the twisting in his gut would cease.

As they closed the distant, Carson could see Major Lorne standing on the landing platform, waiting for them. They left the shield on as they set down, the wind the turbines churned up offering the only clue of it's arrival. Rodney lurched awake as the hit the ground, quickly wiping away the line of drool that hung from the corner of his mouth. Torren, however, did not respond, remaining nestled against his chest.

"Doctor Beckett, McKay," Lorne called out when he heard the hatch open though they had yet to appear.

"We're here." Rodney replied, before falling silent at Carson's light glare. The small boy was roused by the loud voices but only for a moment, whimpering softly but falling silent once again.

The three of them exited the craft and as soon as they were clear, the change of pressure let them know that the jumper had left again.

"Where are they?" Carson asked immediately as he followed Lorne into the hospital.  
>"Teyla's room is #229, Dr Jackson was already released though he's hanging around here somewhere, and the Colonel is still in the ICU." Evan replied, "Who do you want to see first?"<br>Carson paused in mid stride before turning towards Rodney, carefully placing a still slumbering Torren into his arms. The scientist's expression instantly morphed into one of fear and he held the child as though he may break the boy.  
>"Take the lad to visit his mother. He has been wanting to see her for quite a while." The Scot said. He then turned his attention to the Major. "Please, take me to Sheppard."<br>"But- Carson..." McKay stammered, still clutching the toddler hesitantly. Though he had grown quite fond of Teyla's offspring, Rodney had rarely held the boy, and those moments were only when others were close by. Now he fumbled nervously with Torren, who still slept peacefully despite the jostling motion.  
>"Room 229, McKay!" Lorne called out as he and the doctor disappeared down the hall.<br>"229...229.." Rodney mumbled to himself, glancing around before walking towards the elevator.

Once Beckett and Lorne reached urgent care they were faced with a large number of precautions before they were able to enter the ward. Both Evan and the Scot donned the flawless white scrubs and face masks without complaint along with matching caps. While Carson took comfort in each individual bio-hazard protocol, he found his anxiety to see his patient growing with each step. He had no illusions concerning what he was to find once he laid his eyes on the Colonel he had come to call his friend. He had thoroughly read the medical report, again and again, attempting to pull more information from the pages with each re-read sentence. Mentally preparing himself, Carson followed Beckett into the room only too gasp despite himself. He had expected the horrible sun burns and the large bruises and he had been told of other burns but he had not expected the gaping mess in the center of his chest, where his own dog tags had once been embedded. The burnt flesh along the edges of the hole wept a clear fluid while the center stretched open to expose raw muscle.  
>'Oh, lad.' Carson mumbled more to himself than the Colonel. He hesitantly walked over, simply peering down at John, cataloging each visibly injury before picking up the chart that hung at the foot of the bed. Lorne murmured quietly to the on-duty nurse, questioning if there had been any improvement.<br>'They put in a chemical-induced coma to allow his throat, stomach and lungs to heal. The bleach did a lot of damage to the lining.' Lorne said softly as he walked up beside the doctor.  
>Sheppard laid nestled amidst the white sheets, tucked gently up to his waist, avoiding contact with his mutilated chest, which moved up and down in a steady rhythm, controlled by the clear tube down his throat. Nearly every inch of his skin was a harsh red but along his shoulders his flesh was a sickly graypurple. A thick cream was present to help aid in healing, but there was only so much one could do against burns. They were complicated to treat to say the least. It was best not to bandage them, for the external air was important to their healing and the act of removing the material would only cause further damage to the wound and so his chest lay open, left to slowly mend itself.

Carson nodded. He didn't truly have anything to say. The emergency staff had done an excellent job caring for the lad and while a part of Beckett screamed to take his friend back to Atlantis and the incredible tools that were present there, he knew that the risk of infection meant that John could not be moved for a while. That fact, however, did not mean Carson was helpless to simply sit and wait.

Glancing around, Beckett spoke up to the nurse in a gentle voice. "Would you give us a moment, please Lass?" He asked, using his deepest and most charming Scottish brogue.

"Uh, of course." She replied, remembering that he had introduced himself as her patient's physician.

Carson waited until she left the room before reaching into the small duffel bag he had with him. Sending a slightly guilty look towards the major, he withdrew a small, silver device about the size of an index card. "Not gonna tell on me now lad, are ya?"

Lorne grinned as he looked at the clearly ancient technology. "As far as I see you just pulled out your cell phone." If sneaking high-tech alien-engineered medical devices off a top-secret military base gave his C.O the best chance of survival, he was not about to cry foul.

Smiling himself, Carson focused once again on his unresponsive patient, the small equipment held gently in his palm. The silver tool had been discovered in one of the out portions of Atlantis. The entire pier had been flooded. So while the expedition had begun cleaning and doing repairs the project had been put on hold. With one major event after another, many devices and objects were clean, put in storage and only recently pulling them back out when they had found themselves suddenly back on Earth. This new little 'do-hickey', as Sheppard had referred to it when he had first activated the silver electronic, was one of the most interesting tools they had found.

"Alright." Beckett sighed, placing the rectangle in the center of John's chest, above the open wound. Coming in contact with the pilot's gene-charged skin a small blue light began to pulsate. "Now, we wait."

"What does it do?" Lorne asked, standing on his toes to get another look.

Carson smiled. "This clever miracle seems to increase the body's production of white blood cells by nearly ninety percent. We have no idea how it works but it will help keep infection at bay and hopefully give the lad a fighting chance."

The Scot paused, simply looking down upon his patient. He had grown quite fond of the Colonel throughout the years, having seen him often, to say the least. It had seemed as if Sheppard had a medical emergency, varying from minor to major, every other week.

"All we can do is hope now." Carson said more to himself than to the Major.

**Short, but it's what I could get done. Please review and let me know what you think! **


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